Dark Baphomet: A Vampire Romance

16: You've Got Holes In You

"Tell me about this john of yours." His words made me flinch despite the lack of accusation or flippancy.

Telling meant reliving every last detail, even if only in my own head. "I pulled the same trick I always do. But the vamp's energy isn't assimilating. I can," I hesitated, then sighed in resignation. He couldn't help me if I wasn't completely honest. "I can feel him. I could point directly to him, if you asked me."

Blue guided me past him through a doorway, shutting the door in his wake. When I stopped and turned back, he leaned on the door, hands splayed by his hips, eyes narrowed to slits, head canted a fraction as he studied me. "That's not happened with any of your regulars."

"No." It shouldn't have needed saying. I knew better. He knew that.

"So who was it, then?"

I blushed, heat crawling up my neck, making my ears and cheeks tingle. The prospect of admitting aloud my terrible faux pas didn't sit well with me. "It turns out my john was none other than the Monsieur of York."

Blue's eyes widened.

"Before you go on a rant," I continued hurriedly, "I didn't recognize him. He," I made circular motions through my aura, around my head, not sure how I could explain, "he did something so that I wouldn't, so that I couldn't. Jhez did. I didn't understand why she was upset until after."

Whatever he'd drawn breath to say, he let it go on a gusty sigh instead. "Okay. You're in luck. I can fix what ails you, as it turns out." He pushed away from the door and moved across the small office, rifling through drawers in the desk eclipsed by large floor to ceiling windows. Shelves spanning the walls to either side held as many potted seedlings as books.

Blue set two very large prescription bottles onto the desk. "You need a cocktail to get through this. Chi-boosters and signature dampeners you know well enough. And," he paused and eyed me critically, then pulled open a different drawer and tossed another bottle in the palm of his hand, "and a new one I recently encountered on the market. A different kind of dampener. It clouds your aura."

I stared, more than a little uncertain. "What's the benefit of that?"

Blue shrugged. "This john of yours is pulling. It'll kill it some. How much, I can't say. It's new," he repeated. "It's fine, Black. I've used it a few times already. When I'm in sensory overload. Gives me a break from all the music for a bit."

"How much do I owe you?" The three large bottles crammed with injector capsules represented quite a haul in terms of street value.

"Five, and we'll call it even." He walked around the desk and stepped close, reached toward me, hands hovering near my neck, not touching my skin but palpating my aura. "You've got holes in you, the fuck've you been doing?"

"Well, that's part of the problem," I admitted, folding my arms and gripping my biceps against the shudder suddenly wracking my body.

He arched his blue brows at me. "No shit." He turned to the desk and took a capsule from each bottle. The hypo gun he produced from the inner pocket of his jacket, then he motioned at my arms as he loaded it with all three.

I sighed and pushed up the sleeve of my cardigan, then my henley, then the final layer of skintight body armor beneath it.

"Explain the rest of your problem, Black. Why does your aura sound like swiss cheese." Blue grabbed my wrist to steady my arm and pressed the gun's barrel against the inside of my forearm. His long fingers were hot against my skin, and it served as a stark reminder of just how fucked up I'd gotten myself this time.